


No Return Address

by dianasilverman



Category: The Miseducation of Cameron Post - Emily M. Danforth
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 12:48:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18941263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianasilverman/pseuds/dianasilverman
Summary: Cameron writes Ruth from somewhere along the road, hoping for something she cannot fully name.





	No Return Address

So I’ll make my stand, and remain as I am.  
Bob Dylan, “Restless Farewell”.

Dear Ruth,

I hope this finds you well, really, I do. I know you think I hate you, and believe me, part of me does, but that doesn’t change the fact that I would feel bad if you were doing badly. That’s why I’m writing this letter; I’ve had to do a lot of growing up since leaving Promise and along the way, I decided you have enough on your plate without worrying about me. So here it is. I’m alright. I’m safe, and I’m with people I love. It’s funny, my whole life I thought Miles City meant everything, as if my whole life revolved around fitting in there. Now I’ve seen a little more of the world, and looking back, my hometown feels like a snow globe, only made to be seen from the outside, so much of it artificial. I do want to go back someday, though, maybe once I’ve turned eighteen, if only to see grandma. In the meantime, I’m just going to concentrate on doing alright wherever I am. Part of that means unlearning what Montana taught me. I know you’re absolutely convinced you’re right about homosexuality, but you aren’t. The way I am has nothing to do with you, or my parents, or anything else in my past. I was born with it, as inherent to me as the color of my eyes. At this point, I don’t think you’ll ever agree with me, and I can’t really ask you to, but I can ask you this: please don’t worry, and if you’ve been looking for me, stop. Trust me when I say I’m fine. If you ever loved me, give me this. I don’t really know how to end this letter, and the whole thing feels awfully melodramatic, but I’ve tried writing it entirely too many times and I don’t know when I’m going to be near a post office next so this halfway ending will have to be enough. Tell Grandma I love her. Might as well tell Coley, too.

Goodbye,

Cameron Post


End file.
